


For the Storybooks

by karasunova



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Based on Cinderella, F/M, Fairy Tale Elements, Fairy Tale Endings, Inspired by Cinderella (2015), Inspired by Ever After (1998)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-01
Updated: 2019-04-01
Packaged: 2019-12-30 06:03:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18309665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/karasunova/pseuds/karasunova
Summary: Once upon a time in a small kingdom, lived a lonely boy and an equally lonely girl. They were unaware of each other's existence. But on the eve of the boy's eighteenth birthday, their lives would change forever.





	For the Storybooks

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Hermione's Haven Bingo 2019  
> Square Filled: Fairy Tale (B5)
> 
> This story is based on Cinderella and very much inspired by Cinderella (Disney 2015) and Ever After (1998) 
> 
> Enjoy!

“Gods, Hermione, why do you stay there?” Ginny looked over her friend's soot-covered form.

Hermione wiped her face with her friend's handkerchief. “You know why, Gin. I can't let that woman use my parents home however she wants. What if she sells it or destroys it the moment I leave?” Hermione sighed and rested her basket against her hip. “It's better if I stay. Once I turn eighteen, everything will be better.”

Ginny sighed. “If you say so.”

The two friends walked across Market Square, relishing in the warm sunlight and taking in the town gossip.

“The prince's birthday is next week,” Ginny said while perusing ribbons.

Hermione nodded. “I'm sure the town will celebrate with usual gusto. Not that I'll ever get to see.” She wanted to change the subject. Thoughts of the prince usual led her too sad thoughts of the war, the parents she and countless others lost. “Harry asked about you.”

“He did?” Ginny smoothed down her hair. “What did he say?”

“He wondered when you'd be free today. That's all.”

“That's all?” Ginny bumped Hermione's hip. “You're horrible.”

Hermione shrugged. “I have to go.”

Ginny nodded. “I'll see you soon and tell Harry I'm free after dinner.”

“Will do.” Hermione waved at her old friend and walked out of Market Square.

She took the backstreets, her boots making muted sounds against the cobblestone. She deliberately took the quietest route home. Perhaps, if she had time, she'd drop by the library and search through the selection.

She was just about to do just that when someone plowed right into her, having sneaked into her path from a narrow alleyway.

“Oh, I'm so sorry, miss,” a soft voice sounded above her.

She got to her knees and reached out to gather her fallen fruits, bread, and meat.

The man kneeled down before her. “I apologize, miss.”

Pale hands settled the last loaf of bread in the basket. Then, he held out his hand and helped her to her feet.

She was surprised by the gesture and by the feel of his hands. They weren't calloused like Harry's or Ron's. She finally laid eyes on him and gasped.

Standing before her was a sunny-colored haired young man whose cool brown eyes were creased with concern. “Are you alright?”

She unconsciously tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “I am. Although,” she returned her basket to her hip, “I hope you don't make a habit of knocking people down.”

He gave her a crooked smile. “Not usually no. I'd like to say I can sweep them off their feet but my friends say I'm no good at that either.”

“Well, maybe you should keep the sweeping and knocking over to others.” The midmorning bell began to toll. “I have to go.”

“May I escort you home, Miss…”

She shook her head. “That's quite alright. I need to go.” She slipped away and hurried down the cobblestone street.

“Wait, Miss. You –”

* * *

The door slammed shut, making Neville jump. He gulped and waited with bated breath for his grandmother to begin her tirade.

“Did you enjoy yourself?” Augusta, his grandmother, and current Queen Regent stood in front of the large window casting a cool shadow over Neville's head.

He didn't, but he wasn't going to tell her that. He cast his eyes down to his worn leather boots. His day was uneventful, that is until he literally ran into -

“Neville, you have responsibilities here. We need to make preparations for the ball -”

“- a ball I don't even want,” he whined, getting to his feet. “What's the point?”

“The point?” She turned to face him, her blue eyes hard. “What could be more important than finding a life partner? You will be of age. I don't want you to rule on your own.”

Neville crossed his arms over his chest. “You rule alone and you do just fine.”

August sighed. She treaded lightly across the floor. “I won't be around forever. What is this really about?”

Neville tried to ignore her soft hand against his cheek. He stared at her profile reflected in the window. This fierce woman who was his grandmother was a head and a half shorter than him but could scold him six ways to Sunday.

The wrinkles around her eyes were more pronounced and the gray hair at her temples gave her an imperious look.

“I just don’t want a ball. I don't want to find my life partner like that. I'm going to feel like a cow at auction.”

“You are not a cow!” She gripped his shoulder. “You are a prince. Soon to be king. Someone of equal standing must stand by your side.”

“My mother wasn't royalty,” Neville countered. “My father loved her didn’t he?”

“He loved her more than anything.” August brought her hand back down and stared out the window. “We must do what needs to be done, Neville. A strong alliance will secure the kingdom going forward.”

Neville's eyes swept over the courtyard. The gardeners were finishing their rounds picking at newly sprouted weeds and watering the roses. Guards stood at the closed gate while others walked the perimeter.

“I understand,” he finally said.

Augusta patted his cheek and took a step back. “We'll go over details for the ball later.”

He could only nod and listened as she left the library. He wiped his hands down his face, feeling more tired than he ought.

His gaze fell on the faraway clock tower and thought back to the young woman he accidentally ran over that morning. Her warm brown eyes flashed in his mind. He'd never seen brown quite like that. “I wish I had gotten her name.”

“Whose name?”

Neville groaned aloud.

“Well, then” his long-time friend Dean sauntered into the room followed by his other childhood friend Seamus. Dean settled beside him at the window. “A thank you would suffice. We did keep your grandmother off your back all morning.”

“Yes,” said Seamus, from Neville’s other side. “Enough time for you to meet someone it seems. So who is it?”

“I have no idea. I accidentally knocked her down when I was on my way back to the palace. I didn't get her name.”

Dean hummed. “That's too bad.”

“Any news on the marriage front?” Seamus asked.

“Grandmother is going ahead with the ball,” Neville said, his voice showing no enthusiasm.

“Neville, we're sorry.” Dean clapped his shoulder.

Neville let out a long breath. “I just didn’t want to meet my future partner like this.”

* * *

“Hermione, this silver needs polishing.” Dolores Umbridge, the house matron, slammed a basket of silverware down on the table.

Hermione put the carrots she was cutting aside. “Yes, Madam Umbridge.”

“There are many chores you need to pick up on now that Lavender has left. She’s moved on to bigger and better things,” Madam Umbridge’s voice went shrill and hid the contempt she had previously held toward Lavender.

Hermione bit her lip to keep herself from snapping back. Lavender only left to do ‘bigger and better things’ because Umbridge kicked her out of the house after she caught her kissing the boy from down the street. She didn’t want Lavender besmirching the house’s ‘good name’.

“I understand, Madam Umbridge,” Hermione answered. She returned her attention to the carrots and tried to keep her eyes off the overbearing woman. Once the woman cleared out of the kitchen, she let out a small breath.

Dolores Umbridge was not family. Neither was she a family friend. She was a governess Hermione’s parents had initially hired when they and other members of the community left to fight and aid the soldiers on the front during the Border War. Her neighbor’s children came to live with Hermione, to keep them safe, fed, and educated. But when many of those parents didn’t return, including Hermione’s own, Madam Umbridge remained, keeping a strict eye on them all.

Hermione didn’t understand why Umbridge was strict with her most of all. Hermione listened. She did her chores. Made her bed. Kept herself clean. She hardly ever snapped back, even when Umbridge forced her out of her own bedroom to take the space over the barn. She didn’t even sleep in her childhood home anymore.

Hermione took her cut carrots and added them to the stew simmering on the stove. The side door burst open, making her jump slightly. Three of the younger inhabitants of the house - Colin, Aurora, and Faye - scrambled inside.

“Hello, Ms. Hermione,” Colin greeted.

Aurora and Faye came around the table, eyeing the fresh bread. “Do you need any help, Hermione?” Faye asked.

“None today, Faye. What are you three up too?” Hermione wiped her hands on her apron.

Aurora held up a stack of letters. “Years one, two, and three are writing cards and letters for the Prince’s birthday. Harry promised he’ll get them delivered.”

“His birthday is next week.” Faye saddled up beside Hermione. “Did you know? They’re going to have a ball and he’s going to choose a wife!”

“Or husband!” Aurora added.

“Or husband,” Faye continued. “I wish I could go to the ball.”

Colin laughed. “And do what? Dance all night? You can barely stay up past curfew.”

Faye stuck her tongue out.

“It would be nice to see all the dresses, hear the music,” Aurora said. She turned to Hermione. “Would you like to sign one of the cards?”

Hermione gazed down at the brightly colored paper and drawn letters. “Why not?”

Colin fished out a pencil from his knapsack and handed it over.

Aurora spread out the cards and letters on the table and helped Hermione pick out one that had enough space. Once it was signed and the cards and letters cleaned up, the trio ran off into the house.

Hermione stirred the stew. What a heavy expectation for one’s eighteenth birthday. Ruling a kingdom and marrying someone you hardly knew. She knew she’d never be able to do it.

* * *

Neville slipped between the narrow opening of the garden. Looking over his shoulder briefly, he made his way into the surrounding woods and began his trek to town. Today, he’ll cut across the old compound and hoped he’d get to the library sooner than he did yesterday.

He stepped into the outer walkway when he heard a sound. He flushed against a pillar and listened.

“This is probably the stupidest thing I’ve ever done. I’m never listening to Harry again.”

Neville looked around the column and watched as a young woman walked across the open courtyard, long brown hair trailed down her back. She stopped beside the broken fountain, peered up and looked around at the crumbling facade around her.

“This is probably a wild goose chase. It’s not here.”

It was the girl from yesterday. The one he knocked over. What was she doing here?

“Who’s there?” Her voice traveled around the courtyard.

Neville plastered against the pillar again. Should he hide? Should he reveal himself?

Then suddenly, a thick wooden branch was inches from his face. “Who are you? Oh.” The branch faltered slightly, but she kept it upright near his head. “You’re that man from yesterday. Are you following me?”

“No.” He stepped away from the pillar. “I was making my way through. That’s all.” He noticed a few strands of hair sprung out from the tightly wound bun on the top of her head. Her eyes were narrowed in suspicion, but it didn’t take away the warm effect her brown eyes had. “What are you doing here?”

She finally dropped the stick. “Not that it’s any of your business, but I was looking for something.”

“Have you lost something? I can help you,” Neville offered.

She gave him a small smile, which made him relax. “If you have experience finding long lost books than you’re welcome to join me.”

She turned on her heel and headed toward the doorway leading further into the old compound.

He followed. Long lost artifacts? She couldn’t be referring to the scrolls and books previously held here. Could she? “You’re looking for the books previously housed here, aren’t you?”

She peered over her shoulders. “I am…”

“Oh.” He set his hand on his hip. “You won’t find them here. Those scrolls and all the texts that survived are safely ensconced in the palace.”

He saw her visibly wilt.

“I knew it.” Her eyes roamed over the crumbling building that had previously held the royal library and academy. It was one of the victims from the Border War. Neville’s own father had decided to evacuate the books and people, leaving the building itself to burn. Before he realized, her eyes were on him. “How do you know? Do you work at the palace?”

He gulped. “Yes.”

Her eyes widened. “Really?” She walked over to him, her eyes briefly taking him in. “Are you an apprentice?”

“Yes, of sorts.”

“Oh, I’m Hermione, by the way.”

“Nice to meet you, Hermione. I’m Neville,” he said with a slight bow.

“Neville? Like the prince? That must be difficult.”

Neville couldn’t help chuckling. “You have no idea.”

“Well, since there’s nothing here. I think I’ll head home. I have a multitude of chores to get through. Good day, Neville.”

She made her way out of the room and into the open courtyard.

“Wait.” He jogged after her. “If you’re really interested, I can try and show you some of the books and scrolls.”

“Truly? That would be wonderful. I’ve been longing to read them. I remember my parents talking about their own studies in this very compound.” She looked around wistfully. “I’m just glad they’re not around to see what has become of it.”

Neville gulped. “If you’re free later this evening. I could bring some.”

Her eyes brightened. “Neville, that would be amazing.”

* * *

Hermione stared at the Umbridge’s reddening face. She briefly wondered if she ate something different. Hermione was not acting like her usual self. First, she agreed to meet with a young man she barely knew. Now, she stood in the ground floor sitting room, accusing Umbridge of selling her parents silver. The very silver she had polished the previous night.

“How dare you,” Umbridge roared. “After all that I have done for you, this house, and it’s inhabitants. To accuse me of thievery.”

“I didn’t say you stole them,” Hermione interrupted.

“Now, speaking out of turn. To your room, Ms. Granger. No dinner for you tonight.” Umbridge’s eyes held a fire Hermione knew was not easily quelled.

She dropped her eyes and left the house, making her way across the garden to the barn.

“Have courage, Hermione,” she whispered to herself. “Keep your head up.” She sneaked through the backdoor and quietly made her way up the stairs to the top landing. She didn’t want to startle the lone horse below.

She plopped down on her lumpy bed, looking out the open window. It was dusk. Neville might be at the old library by now. Should she really go?

She heard a shuffling sound and leaned over to get a better look out the window. She spotted Harry, sneaking his way around the barn and onto the road, most likely heading toward the Weasley’s home to see Ginny.

She couldn’t help grinning. She was happy for both her friends, but she couldn’t help feeling despondent. It was so easy for her friends to have fun. To be carefree.

She looked up at the sky. She’ll go.

* * *

Neville paced around the fountain. It held still water, from the latest bout of rain. The scrolls were in his bag, along with a few other books he thought he might share. What if she didn’t show? What if this was a setup and he was going to get mugged or killed? At least he told Dean where he was going.

He was staring at the reflection of the moon when he heard a slight shuffling and a small voice.

“It’s so dark. What if he didn’t even come? I’m such a fool.”

He heard her gasp. “Oh, thank goodness.” She hurried toward him. “I was worried you wouldn’t show.”

“I was worried you wouldn’t,” he replied. It was the truth.

She sat down on the fountain. “Thank you for coming. I really appreciate it.”

Neville nodded. He sat down beside her, fishing out a lantern from his pack and lighting it.

“Most people think about the hidden treasures and artifacts that were held here. But, my parents told me about the many books and scrolls. I’ve always wanted to study the scrolls.”

“Really?” He grabbed the scrolls and held them out before her. “I’ve studied them quite extensively. The runes are impressive.”

“You’ve studied them? So, is it possible? Magic, I mean.” She opened the first scroll. She was taken back by the artwork. She pouted. She couldn’t read any of the runes or words. “This is beautiful.”

Neville nodded. “The magic is very real, but only for those who can wield it. I am not capable.”

“So,” she rested the scroll against her legs, “is it something only for fairy godmothers or dark wizards?”

Neville chuckled. “No idea. I remember meeting magic wielders when I was younger, but now I’m not so sure if it was even real.”

She perused the scrolls, making her way through them all and listening to Neville read off what each one contained. Spells for protection. Enchantments. Wards. Fertility rituals.

“I have something of yours,” he said. He grabbed a small book from his pack. “You dropped this when I bumped into you the other day.”

She gasped, almost snatching it out of his hand. “Thank you. I thought I lost this forever. This was the last book my parents gave me.”

“Well,” he wiped his sweaty palms down his pants, “I’m glad I was able to return it to you.” He licked his lips. “I have the same copy.”

“Do you?” She finished rolling up the scrolls and handed them over. “Which story is your favorite?”

“The Girl in the Tower,” he replied quickly.

“Really?”

He nodded, but he sensed skepticism in her tone. “You don’t like that one?”

She shrugged. “Well, she’s rather submissive, I think? A damsel.”

He hummed. “I thought she was rather brave. She faced every day with courage and in the end, she left with the prince.”

“He saved her though,” she countered.

Neville shook his head. “She didn’t have to go with him. She saved herself.”

She looked down at the book, fingering the pages.

He cleared his throat. “I have a book here I thought you might like.”

“Really?”

He dug around his pack and held out a hardbound book. “It’s one of the books that used to be taught here. I thought you might like it.”

She took it, her fingers briefly meeting his. “Thank you, Neville.” She glanced at the sky. “I should be going. Can I see you again?”

“Yes,” he rushed, going to his feet. “Would you like to meet tomorrow night?”

She nodded, a shy smile on her face.

* * *

They met again the following night. The night after that. And the night after that. Neville hadn’t had so much fun and hadn’t felt so free in a long time. He wasn’t Neville, the Prince. But, just Neville, a young man, who was becoming quite enamored with a young woman from his kingdom.

A clever, kind girl, with fierce convictions and brown eyes that made him melt.

But there was a problem, he thought to himself as he looked over the final plans for the ball planned for two days from now. Hermione was not royalty. She wasn’t even of noble birth. She was just an ordinary girl.

Tonight would probably be the last time he’ll ever see her. He didn’t want this to end.

“Grandmother?”

August set her tea down. “Yes?”

“I understand this is late notice, but would it be too much trouble to extend an invitation to the eligible young people of the kingdom to come to the ball?”

“All of them?”

“To make it seem like I’m choosing amongst a wide pool, not just the nobility invited. I think it’d appease them. Make our people more open to the prospect of me potentially marrying a foreigner.”

She tapped her fingers against the hardwood table. “Understandable. Let’s see what we can do.”

* * *

“Did you hear?” Harry fumbled into the kitchen.

Hermione jumped away from the table, hiding the book she was reading in her apron. “Hear what?”

“The ball! The Queen and Prince have extended the invitation to all eligible parties, not just the nobility.”

“Really?” Hermione stared at her friend’s excited face. “Why would they do that?”

Harry shrugged, nicking a small bread roll from the plate on the table. “Maybe he’s fallen in love with a commoner.”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Please, Harry. This isn’t a romance novel. Besides, why are you so excited?”

“I want to take Ginny. It’ll be fun.”

Hermione shook her head. “Neither of you are ‘eligible’.”

“So? You have to come too, Hermione.”

“What? No, no.” She went to the sink and the potatoes she had washed earlier.

“Why not?” Harry came around, pulling her away from the sink.

“What business do I have at a ball?”

“What business? Just to have fun. Eat. Dance. Maybe you’ll meet someone.”

Neville’s smiling face came to mind. He was an apprentice at the palace. Perhaps she’ll see him there.

“I don’t know.”

“No ifs or buts, Hermione. You’re going. There are some dresses in the attic. I’ll sneak some out and leave them in your room.”

Harry ran off before she could protest.

* * *

Neville paced around the fountain again. Every now and then he’d glance at the pale rose he held. He hoped his words won’t drive her away. But, he was desperate for her time, knowing these moments could very well be their last.

“Neville,” Hermione hurried to him. She slowed at the sight of the rose in his hands.

“Hermione,” he held the rose out to her. “For you.”

She smiled, pushing some hair behind her ear. “Thank you.”

Neville took a breath. “Did you hear about the ball?”

“I did. My friend wants me to go.” She shifted on her feet. She was nervous, Neville noted. “I’m not sure if I should.”

“Please, go.”

Her eyes met his.

“I’ll be there,” he said softly, “and I’d very much like to see you.”

“Really?”

He nodded, grinning. “You’ll probably be asked to dance by loads of people, but could you promise that you’ll save one for me?”

“Of course, Neville.”

* * *

Hermione hurried home that night and immediately got to work on mending the dresses Harry had snuck into her room. She sewed well into the night and didn’t go to sleep until the early signs of morning peeked over the trees.

She went through the day’s chores in a sort of daze. Making breakfast, beds, midday meal, cleaning the bathroom. She even helped Umbridge finish mending the dresses for the girls who were going to the ball. Hermione held back a smile.

She had a plan. Once Umbridge and the girls left, she’d run over to the Weasley’s with Harry and get ready with Ginny. Then they’d all take the Weasley family carriage to the palace.

She couldn’t wait to see Neville.

* * *

“Are you nervous?” Harry squeezed her hand.

“No, I’m just excited to see my friend.”

Harry gave her a knowing smile. “Yes, this _friend_ of yours. I’d like to meet him. Them. I’d like to meet them.”

She knocked her shoulder into his. “Shut it.”

The palace appeared before them, bright and airy. It was iridescent in the evening light.

Once the carriage rolled to a stop, Harry helped Ginny and Hermione out. They followed the crowd of people and Hermione couldn't hold back her gasp when she entered the grand ballroom. She immediately took the time to look for Neville before the introduction of the royal family took place. But she couldn't see him anywhere. Where was he? Did he get held up somewhere? Was he even coming at all?

“Hermione, come on. I want to get a good look of the Prince.” Ginny dragged her further through the crowd of people until they were positioned near the front. Grand music began to play and the people around them began to quiet down.

“Queen Augusta and Prince Neville!”

The formidable queen glided down the staircase, greeting the guests around her. But, Hermione's eyes were on the Prince. His warm blond hair, cool brown eyes, the ones she had grown to love.

It was Neville. Her Neville.

He reached the bottom step, held his hands out and said, “thank you for joining us this evening as I celebrate my eighteenth birthday. Let's dance.”

Hermione was pushed amongst the crowd, getting separated from Ginny. She tried to make her way out of the crowd when she felt someone tap her shoulder. She turned around, her breath catching in her throat.

Neville stood before her, a shy smile on her face. “May I have your first dance?”

She could feel everyone's eyes on her, but the hand held out to her gave her the confidence to move forward. She nodded.

His hand tightened around hers as he pulled her onto the dance floor. He bowed to her and once the music started he took up the correct position and began to lead her around the floor.

“You said you were an apprentice,” she whispered.  

He smiled. “I technically am. I'm an apprentice monarch. I'm learning from the best.”

She rolled her eyes. “Why didn't you tell me?”

“I didn't want you to think different of me.”

They danced and danced, moving around the numerous other couples. She thought she saw Harry and Ginny, giggling and dancing.

“Come with me,” Neville whispered. “I want to show you something.”

Neville expertly moved through the crowd and snuck them out a side door. Her hand in his, they hurried down the dimly lit hallway until they came to large double doors. He pushed them open.

She held a hand against her mouth. They were in a large library. Shelves going from the floor to the ceiling. Her shoes echoed against the tile floor. She couldn't believe her eyes.

“No matter what happens after this,” Neville said, “I want you to know you're free to come and read whatever you'd like.”

“What do you mean by whatever happens? Is something wrong?”

Neville sat down on the love seat. She followed suit, taking his hand in hers.

“I'll be married soon.”

“Oh?” Her grip on his hand loosened.

“It's not my choice. I wanted to find someone on my own but it's being arranged.”

Her knee knocked into his. “You're marrying someone you don't know?”

“Practically.”

“Doesn't the Queen know you don't want too.”

“Yes but she wants me in a secure marriage that'll benefit the whole kingdom. I love her. She's taught me everything I know. I don't want to disappoint her.” His voice was soft.

She nodded. She knew all too well about not wanting to disappoint your loved ones. It's one of the reasons she stayed at her childhood home.

“I'm sorry, Neville.”

He gave her a sad smile. “It's one obligation as a Prince most might not consider. I just want my kingdom safe.” He sighed. “Come, I want to show you some books.”

Hermione let Neville drag her around the library. She listened as he recited lines from an epic open and read over the titles he kept recommending.

The midnight bell made her jump out of his arms. She had been snuggled up against him as he read from a tale of knights and princesses.

“I have to go.” She hurried to the door.

“Now?” He scrambled after her.

“I'm sorry. I really have to go.” If Umbridge hadn't seen her already she needed to make sure she didn't see her sneak back home.

“Hermione, wait!”

She ran down the hallway and burst into the ballroom. She pushed her way through the crowd.

“Hermione?” Harry stopped in front of her. “What's wrong?”

“I need to get home, quickly. Before Umbridge sees.”

He nodded. “I'll get Ginny. Meet us at the carriage.”

She reached the front of the ballroom, bumping into the Queen unexpectedly.

“Oh, your majesty. I'm so sorry.”

“It's quite alright. Is everything alright.”

Hermione smiled. “Yes, I just need to get home. But, your majesty. You should know that your grandson is a wonderful young man who loves you very much.” She took a deep breath. “I have to go.”

She pushed through the doors and ran toward the carriages.

“Hermione!”

* * *

Hermione made it home and quietly made it to the barn, taking the steps slowly. She couldn't stop smiling. This had probably been the best night of her life. She had the most wonderful time with Neville. She made it to the landing and breathed out a content sigh.

“So, this is what you do with my generosity.”

Hermione shrieked. Umbridge stood in the light from the window. A shadow cast over her face so Hermione couldn't see how furious she was.

“Madam Umbridge, please I -”

“Always so ungrateful.” Umbridge stalked toward her. “You'll pay for what you’ve done.”

“What did I do?”

Umbridge wrapped her hand around Hermione's arm and pulled her back down the stairs, dragging her to the house. “The Prince didn't look at any of the girls from the house. His eyes on you, an ungrateful girl.”

“Madam Umbridge, please.”

Umbridge pushed her into the ground cellar. “You will not come out until you've learned your lesson.”

She slammed the doors shut.

“Wait!”

* * *

Neville was floating. His birthday celebration was amazing. Minus the part when Hermione ran away but he was so glad to see her. He desperately hoped he would see her again. At least one more time. Despite his happiness, he noted his grandmother's sullen mood over breakfast.

“Grandmother?”

Her eyes landed on him. “Did you enjoy the ball?”

“I did.”

She nodded. “I noticed you didn't dance or talk with much of the nobility invited. You disappeared early on.”

He gulped. “I -”

“You've met someone, haven't you?”

“Yes.” There was no point denying it.

“They're not noble.”

“No.” He looked down at his breakfast. “I understand what is expected of me, grandmother. Don't worry.”

Neville felt his grandmother's gaze on him throughout breakfast.

“Neville,” she said after a long silence. “Do you love this person?”

Neville stared at his tea. Did he love Hermione? He craved her company and looked forward to their conversations. He liked the way she scrunched her nose in thought and the feel of her hair against his skin. “I do.”

Augusta nodded. “Then, perhaps we needn't be so adamant on the nobility requirement.” She ignored his questioning gaze. “If you truly love this person. You deserve a chance to be with them.”

“Do you really mean that?”

“Yes.”

Neville jumped out of his seat, kissed his grandmother on the cheek, and rushed out of the dining room.

* * *

Neville arrived at their spot. It was early evening but he was hoping she might be there. He stood when he heard the sound of footsteps. But he deflated when he saw a shaggy-haired young man.

“Your Highness,” the man greeted, a sad smile on his face. “She thought you'd be here.”

“Hermione?”

The man nodded. “She asked me to give this to you.” He held out a letter.

Neville took it and ripped it open.

_Apprentice Neville,_

_Last night was one of the best nights of my life. You are truly a lovely person, who deserves the world and someone who loves you. I send you well wishes on your upcoming nuptials. Please, don’t worry about me. Just know that I wish you all the best._

_Love,_

_Hermione_

“Where is she?”

The man's eyes searched his. “Do you really care about her?”

“Yes.” Neville crushed the letter in his hands. “Where is she?”

The man, who introduced himself as Harry, explained what had happened. Hermione was locked in the cellar of her home, trapped by the matron who controlled the home. Punishment for ruining the chances of the girls and embarrassing Umbridge. She was being sold off to a family of whom Umbridge had accrued a large debt.

“Is she hurt?” Neville asked.

Harry shook his head.

“We need to get her out of there. Can you lead me?”

* * *

Hermione’s rest over the last two nights were sporadic. But it was a new day and she was determined. She steeled herself. Her feet firm and shoulders back. She looked Umbridge in the eye.

“I won't let you.”

“You're not in charge here,” Umbridge snarled. “You will go and work off the debts the house as accrued.”

“No.” The sound of horses neared the house. Hermione braced herself. “I’m not for sale. I will not work to pay off your debts. I’m leaving.”

“Leaving?” Umbridge's voice was shrill. “And where will you go? You know no one.”

“I don’t need to know anyone. I can do it on my own.”

“You will not, I forbid it.”

“You can’t forbid me. I’m my own person. I’m leaving!” Hermione raced to the door, pushing her way past Umbridge who was pulling her arm back.

Hermione’s arm stung but she reached for the sunlight outside the cellar door. She wrenched her arm out of Umbridge’s hold and ran once her feet were firm on the ground.

“Hermione!”

“Neville?” Hermione turned around. The horses didn't belong the family Umbridge had sold her off to - it was Neville, a contingent of royal guards, and Harry.

She heard the kids and teens gasp and squeal from the windows above. Umbridge gaped like a fish.

Neville dropped down from his horse and jogged over to her, taking her hand in his. “Are you alright?”

Her eyes roamed over his face. “What are you doing here?”

He smiled. “I came to rescue you.”

She squeezed his hands. “Really? But what about your arranged marriage?”

He stroked her cheek. “We’re free to be together. That is if you’ll have me.”

Her eyes began to well up. “Really? Me?”

He tucked some hair behind her ear. “Would you have me, in all that I am? Still an apprentice, learning his trade?”

She bit her lip and nodded. “Will you take me? An ordinary girl, who loves you?”

His eyes were bright. He lifted her hand and kissed her fingers. “Shall we?

“Yes.” She let him lead her to his horse.

“Wait! You cannot -”

Neville stilled beside the horse. “No need to worry about that debt, Madam Umbridge. Everything has been taken care of.”

Hermione gave Harry a warm smile. Neville helped her onto the horse, setting down behind her.

She leaned against his chest and didn’t look back.

* * *

Prince Neville and Hermione were married on a warm fall day, surrounded by their family and friends. The whole kingdom was invited to partake in the festivities.

Neville and Hermione could hardly believe their luck, finding each other when they did. But, their love was true and everlasting. A love for the storybooks.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading!


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